


And Suns Burn Bright

by Aifsaath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Almost Everyone - Freeform, Chosen One, F/F, F/M, Jedi Knights, M/M, Multi, Mysticism, Naboo - Freeform, Politics, Reimagining, Slow Burn, Tatooine, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aifsaath/pseuds/Aifsaath
Summary: The very moment the Sith set their plan in motion, the young Queen of Naboo leads the Morning Mass like every other full moon. A Padawan and his Master enjoy the tranquil peace of a tea ceremony as always. Trillions live, struggle and die, unaware of the small boy lost in the sands of Tatooine who holds their fate in his hands smeared with grease.The Chosen One will come, the prophecy claims, and yet it seems so impossible.





	And Suns Burn Bright

_There once was a night lasting for days a long time ago when Tatooine was blue and green. There once was a night lasting for days when thick clouds of smoke and mist filled the sky. There once was a night lasting for days before the two suns returned, and a loud roar shook the world._

_The people stopped in their tracks and looked up to the skies. And the third sun shone bright. New and loud. White and burning. Burning hot and bright, casting the old suns into shadows. The third sun scorched the grasslands, boiled the rivers, boiled the seas, and behind only dustpans were left. Death ruled Tatooine._

_And Death rules it still._

_. . ._

Nana Ariaaru was dying. Her breath was a dusk wind howling in sandstone crevices as her quiet broken voice sung tales she had brought into her exile in Mos Espa. To keep her company when her kin had chased her away for reasons Anakin knew not. And even now, the last days of her life, she repeated the ancient story, over and over, with feverish compulsion. Anakin, _remember_ , she said.

Her forehead burned when he touched her.

Nana Ariaaru had always been there. Unchanging, unmoving. Free and imprisoned in this shack where bluegrass hung from the ceiling, and stone idols of krayt dragons warded the door against any danger. Hungry beasts would flee the moment they saw the idols. No scorpion with its long sting eager to kill would escape their eyes. Nor a spying master with his whip ready to strike.

The old Tusken embodied Tatooine. The only one who truly belonged the way the slaves abducted from worlds glistening in the night sky did not. She knew all that was there to be known. She knew when the rain would come and when the plagues would hit the town. She knew which spring was safe to drink and which plants healed wounds.

She knew that Anakin dreamt dreams of fire and thousands of men bearing the same face.

Mom knelt at her side, a cup of blackleaf juice in her hands.

“It’ll be over soon, Nana. Drink.”

“No.” She turned her head away. Her eyes used to be yellow. Now, they were covered with milky white film.  Her sallow face covered with chapped scales used to scare him. Sometimes Anakin caught himself staring at her beaked mouth full of sharp teeth, wondering if she had ever tasted human flesh. Her stories never wasted water nor food. And a dead man sated craving as any other carcass. “Not yet. I must finish the story first.”

“Nana, you’ve told it thousand times. Anakin can recite it all by heart already. Here, have some juice. It’ll make the pain go away. Please. Save your strength for-”

“I’m not done yet!” Ariaaru wheezed. “Someone must remember. Someone must keep it. There will be no one left. Anakin…” She sobbed. “Anakin, where are you? “

“I’m here, Nana.”

She grabbed his hand. Her claws scratched on his skin as he leaned closer to hear her whisper.

“ _Not just men. Women and children too._ I hear you clear, witch child. Don’t do it, I beg you. Drink all water I have, but spare my blood. Little krayt, there will be no one left. No one to remember my name. Only you.”

He looked at her, confused. Mom did not understand any better. Evening wind hit at the windows, knocking them open, bringing in sand and screams of the beasts lurking behind the whitewashed walls. Goosebumps crawled all over Anakin’s arms. He tried to shake Ariaaru off, but the more he struggled, the firmer her grip.

“Let him go, Nana!”

Reluctant, she complied. Her blind eyes bore into Anakin’s. She was terrified, he realized.

“Don’t leave me. Not you too.”

“We’ll stay, but you must stop scaring him.” Mom took Ariaaru’s hands into hers. “I know this is important to you. But he’s just a child. Whatever you’re afraid of, it’s not his burden to bear.”

“He must remember.”

“He does.”

“Does he?” She blinked. “It’s so dark… So dark… Tell me, Anakin, what did the third sun bring?”

“The third sun brought curse onto this land.”

. . .

_The third sun brought curse onto this land.  Fire-rain fell by day. By night, earth shone with stars. What water was left, turned into poison. All life was born twisted. Merciful was death._

_One day the third sun fell from the sky._

_It was no sun – it was an egg._

_A mighty Krayt, who had lost her offspring to the plague, brought the egg to her empty nest._

_She-who-rules-the-sands wove her body around the egg heavy with child._

_And night fell on Tatooine._

_And morning came._

_And suns burned bright. The egg cracked and out the Child of Skies crawled, scales stark white and sharp, In the midst of the Great Waste it cried with hunger for the first time. She-who-rules-the-sands tore her chest open with her own teeth to let the Child latch on her own flesh. Stronger and stronger the Child grew with every gulp until the Mother withered to dust._

_Starving and terrible, the Child set on its path._

_It devoured ruins. It devoured towns. It devoured sickly flesh of the tainted. It devoured freefolk and slavers too._

_The Child brought fire birthed by suns to cleanse the world of the curse so water can return._

_. . ._

They did not bury her body. Instead, the following morning they carried her carcass to the rehydration centre where they would take care of it the way she would have preferred. Instead of getting paid, the owner had the right of the first claim to water extracted.

She was so light, to Anakin’s surprise. Alive, she had never looked frail. Or maybe he did not recognize the signs of the old age in Tuskens.

Anakin did not cry. Neither did Mom. Watto gave them no time to mourn.

There was only her story, the one told and re-told thousand times with urgency he never understood.

One day he forgot.

_. . ._

_But the five moons saw what the Child had done and they feared its light. And they sang the songs of dreams sweet to lull the Child into eternal sleep_

_The first song reached the Child’s ears and it roared in anger and reached to the skies. Its teeth sank into one of the moons. It turned red with its blood before it disappeared into darkness never to be seen again._

_The four moons sang the second song of tears shed by Her-who-rules-the-sands the moment she had been eaten alive. And the Child roared in grief and reached to the skies. Its teeth sank into another moon. It turned blue with its blood before it disappeared into darkness where its brother was left to rot._

_The three moons sang the last song. Of suns and shade. Of water fresh and wind cool. And the Child shed tears of longing and fell asleep. Where the tears landed, springs emerged from rocks._

_The three moons wanted to avenge their brothers. And thus, they took the ribs of Her-who-rules-the-sands and pierced the sleeping Child in its belly, spilling its guts all over Tatooine._

_The moons kneaded the bloodied flesh into the form of People. But it was the sun forge dwelling in the Child’s flesh that breathed life into the meat and mind into the brains. And it was the sun forge in the Child’s heart that kept the sleeping god alive._

_Ever since each night the moons sing the song to escape the justice. They fear the Child’s rage. When it sighs in its dreams, they slip away. When it falls into deeper slumber, they return. But one day no song will be enough. The Child will rise and devour the moons._

_It will melt the world to recast it in the forge burning in its heart. Temper it in its fire._

_It will swallow the suns and a night will come._

_A night lasting for days._


End file.
